


Gardeners

by Smeagol92055



Category: weed - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smeagol92055/pseuds/Smeagol92055





	Gardeners

The novice settled back into the springy moss, exhaling blissfully.

Sister Thara smiled nearby, holding the bubbler. Smoke wheeled lazily up into the air, curling in upon and over itself.

Novice Arnem blinked and smiled warmly as the smoke in his lungs bloomed into his mind.  
"It was a garden," he murmured.

Sister Thara set the pipe down and looked up slowly. "Mmm?" She hummed, inviting him to share his thoughts.

"The world as the universe made it was a garden. Mankind was peaceful and at harmony with each other. Some of the creation myths say that a cursed or blessed fruit was eaten, others that fire was stolen from on high. What if it was both? What if we stole the sacred plant and fire from those on high - heh, 'on high' - and it changed those of us who took it? Our third eyes were opened, the thrumming of the heart beating in our ears became the engine of the cosmos, of which all of us were the machinery, our energies eternal and bound."

Novice Arnem took a breath, grounding himself. It would be no good to spin out under the leaf's effects. He was after answers, they all were, from the lowliest initiate to the high Llama, the Pursuit of Divine Truth was the name and charter of their order. Sister Thara tamped down some fresh leaf, supposing that he was blissed out, and preparing for the next novice through.

The novice's eyes focused, his jaw tightening momentarily.

"We could show them. If there was only some way to get every single person to smoke the herb at the same time, just for one day, the world would change overnight. War would be over, they would peacefully and eagerly help us to fix the world. It would be a garden again. We could be gardeners."

The older woman sat thoughtfully, the pipe forgotten. After a moment, she spoke.

"We can compel no man to walk a path other than his own, even if it were a paradise we were offering freely."

Novice Arnem's eyes unfocused and rolled slightly back. His blissful smile melted slowly into a frown and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"But why? Why wouldn't they listen?"

The Sister gestured expansively with her gnarled hands. 

"We may not force a man into the garden. We should not try. Some are not ready.

We can only plant our own gardens and tend them with the love we can give."

The novice smiled, his consciousness slipping away slowly into the cool dark. "I like that," he murmured. "It's so gentle."

Sister Thara smiled. "Enlightenment sometimes is."


End file.
